[Note: this transcription was produced by an automatic OCR engine]

SANTO I 4 I

Chilly and stiff, the boys get up and crowd round
the fires. As we have no more water there is no
tea, and breakfast is reduced to dry biscuits. The
moli has found the lost trail by this time, and we
continue the ascent. On the plateau we again
strike nearly impenetrable bush, and lose the trail
again, so that after a few hours’ hard work with the
knives we have to retrace our steps for quite a dis-
tance. It is a monotonous climb, varied only by
an occasional shot at a wild pig and fair sport with
pigeons. Happily for the thirsty boys, we strike a
group of bamboos, which yield plenty of water. All
that is needed is to cut the joint of the stems, and
out of each section flows a pint of clear water, which
the boys collect by holding their huge mouths under
the opening. Their clothes are soaked, but their
thirst is satisfied and our kettles filled for the midday
meal.

Presently we pass a native “camp” under an
overhanging rock: it consists of a few parallel sticks,
on which the native sleeps as well as any European
on a spring-mattress, and a hollow in the ground,
' with a number of cooking-stones.

After a stiff climb we stop for our meal, then
follow a path which gradually widens and improves,
a sign that we are nearing a village. Towards
evening we come to some gardens, where the natives
plant their yam and taro. At the entrance of the
village I make my boys close up ranks; although
the natives are not supposed to be hostile, my people
show signs of uneasiness, keeping close together